❝tell me, why does a sixteen-year-old girl build a fully functional, weaponized, sixteen-foot tall robot?❞
❝i want friends. talking to people on a daily basis seems stressful.❞
after the death of her mother, beatrix discovers unfinished projects o...
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THE MORE TIME BEATRIX SPENT going along with this private school bullshit, the more she realized why she'd left school in the first place. No Sally Avril Type had personally antagonized her yet but Upstate Prep had a lot of its own problems.
Quickly, Beatrix learned that not many laws applied in High School. In fact, basic human decency was blatantly ignored. Theft? Not a problem. Finders, keepers. Get another pencil, Vanessa. Aggravated Assault? Was celebrated through sports like football. Traffic regulations? Don't even exist in the school parking lot. Survival of the fittest.
The worst problem though was the boredom. Every class was so immensely boring. In home school, she had at least a little decision making in how she divided her time and she sure as well wasn't spending an hour and a half on U.S. history. (Because how many times can one hear about old white guys causing tragedies and Steve Rogers saving the day before losing their fucking mind, right?)
"This is a reminder to all science specialties and involved students to have their Science Exposition Proposal handed in, to their respective teachers by Friday afternoon."
Loudly that announcement was blared through the intercom mid-way through class, making a third of the class (most likely STEM specialties) let out harmonic groans.
For context: The Upstate Expo was essentially just a glorified science fair, marketed as a mini-Stark-Expo for nerdy teenagers. It was common knowledge that teenage Upstate Science Expo winners — like Norman Osborn or Beth Castro — usually grew up to be very influential members of society. In recent years Upstate Alumni Norman Osborn had begun judging the annual Expo, awarding the winners with an Oscorp Internship.
Beatrix's parents had actually met because of the Expo. Beth had broken her three-year winning streak in their senior year, and Raymond, who'd been silently crushing on her since the beginning of the year, had taken the opportunity to ask her out for comfort-pizza. He said the soccer team always got some when they lost (which wasn't true, the soccer team had tequila shots when they lost, but he didn't think Beth was the underage drinking type.).
The Upstate Science Exposition, technically, was responsible for Beth and Raymond getting married, and by extension technically responsible for Beatrix's entire existence. So when this reminder was announced throughout the entire campus, Beatrix's head shot up from the desk she'd been semi-sleeping on so she could ask, "Wait, the Expo is, like, still a thing?"
"Not to anyone with a life." A boy sitting across from her, Harry Osborn, sighed. "But my dad's fucking obsessed with it."
The class let out a collective laugh; mostly with stealthy snickers to avoid getting a death stare from the teacher but some laughing out loud with disregard.
"Mr. Osborn—" The history teacher, a short-tempered and bald-headed man who Beatrix believed was named Mr. Davis, turned from the board he'd been writing down notes on. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use that type of language in my classroom."
